Riddles
by Swake23
Summary: Edward has full reign of Gotham however something is twisting his will to fully become the man he was destined to become.
1. Oswald's 'Ghost'

**Riddles**

 **Chapter 1: Oswald's "Ghost"**

Edward was sitting at Oswald's mayoral desk reveling in his revenge plot success. He could now become the man that he was destined to become. First thing first, he had to create the perfect mystery and he knew just who to make the star of it. The fated Mayor of Gotham himself, Oswald Cobblepot.

He found himself in front of the painting of Oswald and himself with a spray can of green spray paint stalling because he didn't want to ruin a piece of art, however a part of knew it was because deep down he missed his little-feathered friend and looking at the last ever smile of Oswald made him sad and a bit lonely.

"Oh just do it already, Ed, you know you want to" came the familiar voice of a now deceased friend.

Ed turned around and stared at the form in the archway still in the last suit that he would ever wear, covered in the slime and foliage from the lake. His eyes were soft yet understandingly sad. His lips curved into a weak half-smile and melted into a soft frown. He appeared pale with dark rings around his eyes.

"Os-Os-Oswald? I-I-I thought that I killed you? What are you doing here?", Edward's voice cracked on the word 'here' as he stuttered his inquiry towards his seemingly deceased friend.

"In your mind I am dead, but in a way, you cannot accept that I am dead can you?", Oswald's voice was sharp and full of agony.

"What do you mean? I cannot accept that you are dead? I so do accept that you are dead by my hand. What I don't understand is why you are standing there in the archway of your former home?", Edward was riveted with humiliating anger about this conversation with a dead man who apparently wasn't even there to begin with.

"If I am dead as you say I am, then I am not really here am I? I'm just a projection of impulse aren't I, Ed?", Oswald was sounded hostel and angered.

"Why are you so angry? Weren't you a miserable little nobody in life?", Edward snapped for no reason at all except maybe to hurt him more which was absurd because he didn't die a nobody, he died the Mayor Of Gotham and he couldn't hurt him. At least not anymore.

"I'm not angry, I am enraged because you shot me and didn't even bother to hear MY side of things! and now I'm trapped in YOUR psyche because YOU can't handle that fact that YOU did LOVE ME!", Oswald fussed. Sheesh! His psyche was pretty scary and angry. Why was he so angry? And why did he think that this was a normal thing to be doing right now?

They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before Edward blinked and turned back to the painting and spray painted a big green question mark right over Oswald. He tried unsuccessfully to say that none of that conversation had actually happened, however a part of him wasn't convinced.

He was so deep in thought that he was startled when a hand gently pressed down on his lower arm before releasing its pressure and vanishing altogether. A part of him knew that it was Oswald, but he was so uncertain that it was actually just his imagination.

He stood there gently holding his arm and staring dreamily at the now-defaced painting unsure how to proceed next. One thing was for certain though, he missed Oswald more than ever and this melancholy feeling wasn't going away anytime soon.

If only he had spared Oswald's life...Eh, that was a topic for another night. He needed rest before he could proceed with taking over Gotham and making it riddled with questions. The riddles had to center around the missing mayor and his demise. But sleep first and planning later. He headed off to bed for the night.


	2. The Stress of Regret

**Chapter 2: The Stress of Regret:**

Edward was sitting in Oswald's favorite armchair located in Oswald's bedroom aimlessly staring at the photo album that was on Oswald's nightstand opened to a photo of both of them at the siren's club. The photo was taken by Barbra and Tabitha three weeks after Butch disappeared from the ambulance taking him to the hospital and then to jail. It was the only photo that they had taken together, the rest was of the album was of Oswald's mother and his extended family.

As he looked at the photo a pang of sadness squeezed his heart almost as if Oswald's hand was roughly massaging it. A tear caressed his cheek and landed on the plastic protector of the album that kept photos from becoming ruined from wear and tear as the years go by. Edward didn't understand why he was so sad or even why he was in Oswald's room.

The faint smell of Oswald's lightly husky body order perfumed the air around him, growing stronger with every breath he took. He looked up and saw Oswald sitting on the bed smiling at him seemingly sweet and innocent.

"I see you found our picture, Ed. I'm sorry that I was so harsh to you. I wasn't thinking straight love.", his husky voice sounded like music to Edward's ears and he couldn't help but smile at his sadly deceased friend.

"I miss you, Oswald, I really do. I regret shooting you and leaving you for dead. In truth, I think I did love you. Truth be told I overreacted, I guess.", Edward's voice sounded alien to his own ears.

"At last you accept your true feelings. Well, there's no time to waste is there? The GCPD need to be clued in soon and one of your trusty riddles should do the trick.", Oswald suggested softly chuckling.

"You're right, they need to be drawn to the mansion with just the right riddle. I already have one in mind.", for the first time, Edward actually smiled.

When he looked back towards the bed Oswald was gone and in his wake was a sloppily shewn bed, for Edward had slept in it the night before in hopes that he could lock Oswald's scent into his mind, body, and soul.

 **Edward wrote down the following riddle:**

 _He was envied by all. Some feared him while others loved him. Left an orphan by unfortunate circumstance. Both his parents died in his hands. A stepmother missing. Her children she feasted. This man whose guilty of innocence killed is now lost his will and now is missing still._

He proofread it multiple times before placing it into an envelope and sealing it and addressing it to the GCPD. He then went to the post office to snail mail it to the GCPD. He strolled along the city streets to his new secret hideout, Oswald's old apartment, for he knew that the police wouldn't look there at first. He entered the apartment building and went to his little cozy hideout. Upon entering the apartment he was greeted by Butch and Tabitha who were just lounging on the couch(he kept all the furnishings except for the pink lacy curtains and he hid the photos of Oswald and his mother and extended family in a truck that he kept in the hall closet) and drinking whiskeys on the rocks.

"Where's Barbra? She was supposed to be here by now.", he tone was harsh and cold.

"Relax, Nygma, she's out getting the 'supplies' that we need. So just chill, okay?" Tabitha coolly answered.

"What a bunch of pathetic losers.', he muttered to himself. He wished Oswald was there tied to a chair and gagged in only his pants and buttoned down shirt on him. Wait, did he just think that? What was wrong with him? Why was he still obsessing over Oswald? Why couldn't he just forget about him and focus on his little game that inevitably circulated around Oswald? He felt a tear fall down his face, but wiped it away before Butch or Tabby saw it and mocked him for it.

"Awww, Boohoo, Ed misses me doesn't he?", Oswald chimed.

Edward looked up and saw Oswald standing next to the kitchenette that served as a kitchen mockingly pouting with mock puppy dog eyes. He was wearing only his pants and his button-down shirt and crossing his arms.

"Oswald? What happened to your suit and why don't you have shoes and socks on? Oh, please tell me you are still wearing your underwear?", Edward observed still wondering why his outfit had changed.

"How should I know? You made me wear ONLY my pants and button down shirt so...you tell me if I'm wearing my underwear or not, Lover boy.", he was as snarky as ever but very truthful.

"You're right I did change your appearance but that does not mean I make you do everything that you do, Oswald.", he tried to justify his own psyche but failed oh so miserably.

The truth was that Oswald was a figment of his imagination and couldn't possibly change his appearance on his own accord. Every change that Oswald went through was Edward's own mind compromising with what it last saw Oswald looking as before he was tossed into the lake shot in the abdomen. Anyway, Oswald would always be right because he makes him say what he wants him to say. Oh, he was going insane, wasn't he? Wait, how could someone who's already insane go insane? Oh, forget it, thinking is too hard anyway.

"Oh, guys, guess who's back?", a chirpy voice sang as Barbra entered the apartment.

"Hi, Babs! What took you so long? I thought you were a goner for sure", Tabitha halfheartedly chimed.

"Yeah, Tabby here thought you weren't coming back.", Butch chimed in coolly.

"Well, I just got hung up with Oswald, that's all", she chimed ecstatic.

"What who did you just say you just got hung up with, Barb?", Edward inquired nervously.

"I said I was hung up with Osmund, the new chief of police. Why so antsy, Eddie darling?", she reiterated puzzled to why she had to repeat herself.

"Oh, nothing I just thought you said someone else is all. Nothing to worry about.", he mumbled softly.

Why did he think that she said, Oswald? Does he miss him that much? His shoulders shuddered and he started to sob. oh, Oswald, I am so sorry. I should have listened to you when I had a chance. He covered his face with his hands as he sank to the floor.

"Oh, why did I have hurt you, Oswald? Why? Why did I kill someone that I loved so much and who loved me back? You were the only one capable of loving a freak like me.", his sobs became painful as he started to hiccup from sobbing so hard.

"Shh, There, there, Ed, it's alright. You killed me because I killed Isabella, remember. She was the woman that you loved and I was selfish and made you needlessly suffer. For that, I am so sorry, love. I am so sorry. Please forgive me." Oswald's voice was soft and sweet and gentle. He felt his arms around him even though he wasn't there. Edward curled into Oswald's arms and stayed in their warmth. Oddly though, he smelt like bittersweet honeysuckle.

It took him a moment to realize that it was Barbra not Oswald holding him. "Thanks, Barbra, for comforting me. It means a lot."

"You're welcome Nygma, I could feel your pain.", She cooed.

"Barbra, do you remember taking a photo of Oswald and I, when we were visiting the Sirens club?", he randomly mentioned the long-forgotten photo in hopes she would view it as a fond memory before Isabella came into the picture.

"It's a vague memory but if I remember correctly you two were like happy little bluebirds in the springtime.", she chimed reminiscing a little.

Edward reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out the crumpled photograph and unfolded it and tried to smooth it out a little but to no avail, and handed it over to Barbra. She sat there looking at it and gently stroking her thumb over Oswald's beaming image as a single tear gently glided from her eye.

"Do you think killing him was too much? We could have kept him as our play toy or event better as our pet. What do you think Nygma?", she softly sniffled and took a deep breath to calm her sadness in her breast.

"I...I... love...and. .him...so...yes...killing him...was too...much", his voice was soft and thick with sadness and regret. How could he have so selfish in thinking that Oswald killed Isabella out of malice? Why didn't Oswald come to him sooner with his dilemma? Why didn't Oswald confess his love to Edward sooner? What was holding him back? Edward will never know, will he?

Oswald was right, killing him did change him. He remembered the deep-rooted weight that began to squeeze his heart when he watched Oswald sink into the icy depths of the lake. He thought it was anger at the time, but now he is unsure what he felt at the moment, if not anger, than what was that crushing weight on his heart? Regret? Remorse? Relief? Or was it the shattering of his own heart? That is the true riddle.


	3. Nightmare Sequence

**Chapter 3: Nightmare Sequence:**

Edward and Oswald are sitting on the loveseat locked in each other's gaze as the Earth seemed to stand still. Their hearts seemed to beat as one. Their breath shallow and calm. Their lips tingled in earnest for a kiss that would not happen. Oswald's bound hands raised and smacked against a glass wall as water spilled into his box and his abdomen started to bleed yet he did not notice for he was focused on banging on the glass. He was speaking silent words. His breath fogged up the glass as his started to go underwater.

Oswald was surrounded by water as he tried to break free as he continued to bang on the glass to no avail. He gave up trying to save himself and rested his bound hands( one Palm out and resting on the glass and the other hanging limply palm down.) on the glass and stared longingly at Edward. Then in a split of a second his face and body contorted and changed into Kristen Kringle and then in a flash, she was Isabella. Edward placed his hand gently on the glass and it shattered and a slimy and scaly fish slithered and morphed into a snake that coiled and tightened around his neck.

All his air was sucked out of him as the scene slowly morphed and changed to his apartment and he was tangled in his sheets upon the floor. he worked his way out and found Oswald lying in his bed. Edward slowly walked towards him and gently rolled him over to reveal Eligah Van Dahl's remains in Oswald's hair and Edward's pajamas. Edward stumbled backward and fell into a grave.

When he looked up he saw Oswald shoveling in dirt and debris from the surrounding graveyard. He moved like a robot. Edward tried to scream out for Oswald to stop but his voice was silenced and his limbs were heavy and weighed him down. he couldn't move or speak, it was as if an invisible coffin was enveloping him.

He couldn't breathe and his heart was beating so loud that he couldn't think. All he could do was watch himself being buried alive. He closed his eyes and when he opened them He found himself in his bedroom in the former mayor's mansion. A light caught his eyes and he got up to investigate. The halls and the corridors had become an endless labyrinth with riddles at every turn.

Some were easy and some were hard. By the time he came to the center he found Oswald waiting for him and placing lilies on his parents' graves and Isabella was lying dead at his feet. Where her throat used to be was a gaping hole that gave the illusion that she was beheaded. She was adorned in a pearl white wedding gown.

Looking back at Oswald He was wearing a wedding tux and when he turned around he was drenched in her blood. It stained his mouth and the front of his tux and his hands, for he was holding a knife in one hand and a plate piled with her flesh in the other.

"Edward, darling, come feast on her flesh with me.", Oswald murderously cooed.

"S-sure, why not my darling husband?", he heard himself coolly utter. Did he just call Oswald husband? That was definitely weird yet thrilling to say out loud.

"Then come, my husband, we shall celebrate our wedding by feasting on Isabella's flesh." Oswald waved a bloody hand and knife over her lifeless body.

Edward felt himself move towards Isabella and saw himself dig his hands in the open cavern that was now her neck, and tear away chunks of her flesh and place them in his mouth and begin chew. He chewed the rubbery flesh which tasted peculiar with a hint of saltiness. He spits it out and began to gag when saw that the body that the flesh had come from was Oswald's NOT Isabella's. Oswald's chest was open and there was a gaping hole where his heart should have been. Edward sat shaking as he realized that he was covered in blood from his mouth to his waist along with his hands. He fell backward and was scooting away when Oswald sat up and stared at him through empty-eye sockets.

"Ed-ward, Ed-ward, Why? Why Ed-ward, Why? Why did you take my eyes?", his raspy voice spoke to him and chilled him to the core.

"I-I-I-I d-didn't take y-your eyes, Os-Oswald.", Edward stuttered as fear gripped its icy fingers around his heart and squeezed.

Edward couldn't breathe and his lungs felt as if they would burst at any moment. He starred at Oswald until an alarm went off and he woke up in his old apartment. He was breathing hard and got up to get a drink. He shambled towards the fridge and opened it. When he opened it all he found was a single jar with a pair of ice-blue eyeballs in it.

He shrieked as the jar shot out of the fridge and crashed onto the ground where it shattered and turned into writhing ice-blue and midnight black Rattlesnakes that slowly tightened around his feet and slowly swelled to envelope him. He struggled as suffocation started to take its toll. All he could do was stand there as the snakes were slowly killing him. As soon as they enveloped his head they incinerated and turned into ash that floated and settled all around him.

The room went dark for a brief moment before a dim light flickered on and a small square wooden table and a decently medium wooden chair appeared. after a series of flickering Oswald materialized in the once vacant wooden chairs. His suit was covered in slick "sea slime" from the murky depths of the lake. Blood from his bullet wound dripped upon the chair in sporadic cycles of drippage. He was studying his nails with an air of impatience mixed with irritation.

"Gah, why is everyone so incompetent when I need them to "take care of" my undesirables? Especially you Edward. Nygma.", His voice was sharp and frighteningly cold.

"Oswald? Are you alright? Why so cold?", Edward's voice shook slightly yet he remained cool.

"Why do you think?", as he said this he looked up to reveal deathly pale sunken cheekbones. Oswald's eye sockets were so sunken and bony they made the illusion of his eyes popping out of his skull, threatening to fall out and drop upon the floor. Oswald's lips were so pale and thin they were hardly there. His hair was greasy and falling out in patches making his hair so thin and dull. His hair lost its gleam, luster, and slight thickness. It was also seemingly glued to his head.

Oswald reached up with a bony, deadened hand and uttered, "Wake up! You need to wake up! Edward, wake up!", his voice changed its patterned and sound. It took Edward a moment before he realized that Barbara was trying to wake him up. He struggled to regain sound consciousness. He began to move his arms and legs and rapidly blink his eyes as he rubbed sleep away. When he finally woke up in the real world instead of the dream one he felt relieved that his nightmare sequence was over.

He woke up in a room that had decor that had a male's influence to it. He believed that this was Oswald's room for most of his life before he went to Arkham and before he even knew that his dad was even alive. He sat in the sweet-smelling bed for the majority of the morning slowing becoming numb to his nightmares.

If only Oswald was here...if Only...


	4. Overcoming Self Regret Part One

**Chapter 4: Overcoming Self Regret Part** **One:**

Edward was lounging on the musty old couch that had inhabited Gertrud's apartment for as long as she was alive. There was a faint tuna fish scent that was permanently apart of that couch no matter how hard or deep you scrubbed the damn thing. The femininely boyish room lead him to believe that Oswald also lived here before he was 'King of Gotham' and before his mother had died. Boy, sharing an apartment with his mother probably put a cramp in his personal life.

Oh, how difficult it must have been for him when it came to "business" calls. Edward wondered how Oswald was able to lie for so long without his mother finding out about his "dirty deeds". Well, enough about him. It's time to focus on letting Oswald Cobblepot go and moving on with his life. That means going back to where he died and saying good-bye for now at least.

Edward was trying to focus on a crossword puzzle when the door buzzer went off. Sighing he set down the crossword and sluggishly inched towards the door. By the time he reached the door and dishearteningly looked through the peephole ad turned the doorknob to open the door the buzzer had gone off a total of ten times in counting.

"*sigh* Yes? What is it, Barbra?", Ed's voice sounded disinterested and hoarse.

"Oh, nothing really, I just saw a boat wreck that's all.", her voice sounded benign yet hiding something too important to ignore.

"Who's boat wreck? And don't lie to me.", his voice picked up a harshly interested tone.

"It was just a boat called oh, how do I put this, 'The Lil' Mooney' that's all.", she was hinting at something obvious yet not obvious at the same time.

"So you are saying that Fish Mooney crashed her boat before she was destined to return to Gotham? Is that supposed to mean something to me?.", he was irritated and confused.

"Let me put it this way, who would she bring back to Gotham? Hmm? Any guesses?", she was probing him for an educated guess.

"Are you suggesting that she was returning someone to Gotham? Are you implying that I go and check out the wreckage for survivors?", he was carefully rooting around in hopes she would just say it already.

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere. Now go fetch the survivors and bring them here so we came make them our courtly pets.", she enthusiastically chimed.

"Fine, but if I find someone that belongs to me I am keeping him for myself.", he was trying to imply that if Oswald was one of the survivors he wanted to keep him all for himself. It was a little selfish but they had a complicated history and he was only one who could keep Oswald in check.

He adorned his riddler's suit that Barbra had fashioned for him to wear when doing criminal acts. He only wore it once and left it in the closet collecting dust because he was trying to find a name for himself that would fit with the suit itself, and so far he had nothing. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror as he fashioned his hat on his head. The mask was a nice touch in alluding to the mystery of who...hmm, he'd have to think about it later.

For now, he needed to head to the dock and search for survivors of the wreckage. Barbra had given him the location of the wreckage and which dock would be the best vantage point to view the wreckage from scrawled onto a piece of note paper. He studied her soft delicate handwriting along with its distinctive curves and loops and curls. After studying it briefly he folded the paper in half and neatly tucked it into his inner front pocket. After a few more brief adjustments he set off to find the survivors of the wreckage.

 **Half An Hour Later:**

Edward was watching the last of the ship sink as he felt his heart sink as he believed that there were no survivors. As he stared out at the open water he noticed that there was movement in the water as someone was slowly struggling to reach the dock. In his excitement, he exclaimed an excited cheer and jumped up and down. He was doing this until the survivor reached the nearer the dock.

He kneeled down and sunk his hand into the freezing winter waters and grasp the survivor's collar and began to pull him out of the water. Using his other hand he hoisted the seat of the man's pants up in order to lift him fully onto the dock. His excitement ebbed a little when he rolled the lone survivor over. His excitement ebbed into shock when he realized who it was.

"Os-Oswald? Is that you?", his voice sounded thick and hoarse.

"E-Ed-Edward? Is that really you?", was all Oswald could utter before succumbing to an unconscious icy slumber.

With an immense struggle, he was able to lift Oswald up and cradle him in his arms. Very slowly he made his way back to his car. When at his car Edward kneeled down so he could adjust Oswald to a sitting position before opening the back door of his car. He opened the back door of his car and adjusted the blankets so that resembled a sleeping bag, before returning to Oswald and carefully setting him in the back backseat and wrapping him in the blankets so that he could retain what little body heat that he had left.

With Oswald all settled in the backseat he closed the back door and walked around to the driver's seat aware that his suit was slightly damp from the struggle of rescuing Oswald _again_. Getting into the driver's seat and closing the driver's side door he sighed and buckled his seatbelt and started the car and drove back to his current hideout.


	5. Overcoming Self regret: Part Two

**Overcoming Self Regret: Part Two:**

Edward was lightly sleeping in the left-hand corner of the room to ensure that Oswald was guarded at all times. Every few minutes he would arouse himself in order to make sure that Oswald was still lying limply in his old bed. He sat there studying Oswald's unconscious fragile frame. In that moment Oswald looked more vulnerable and weak than any other moment he could remember. He must have fallen to sleep because he was aroused by a shifting weight from the bed.

Sitting up he noticed Oswald's glazed opaquely clouded eyes gazing around the room and stop and flickered in his direction. Did he recognize him or did he catch the slightest glimpse of movement? Edward couldn't tell.

"Os-Oswald? Are you awake?", Edward was a little uneasy afraid that his voice would be too much to bare hearing after all this time.

"W-where am I? How did I get here?", the sound of Oswald's soft husky voice sent chills down Edward's spine.

Edward didn't know where to start so all he said was:

"You're in your old room in your old apartment that you shared with your mother. I rescued you from a boat wreck just off a dock just out of Gotham.", Edward's voice seemingly went unnoticed as Oswald slowly fell back asleep apparently exhausted and throbbing with pain.

Edward wanting to keep busy made a tuna fish sandwich for Oswald just the way he liked it with a little mayonnaise and spicy mustard and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. He returned to the room and placed the sandwich upon a small table he had fashioned out of old spruce wood and placed in the dark corner before sitting back down in the chair amongst which he was sitting.

The moment he sat down Oswald stirred again and this time he sat up, closed his eyes for a few moments before rubbing the sleep away from them and stretching his whole body. As he was stretching, however, he let out a massive fart and immediately afterward he grew a deep red that was both dark and bright at the same time before hiding his face in embarrassment.

Ed couldn't help but laugh, "hahaha hehe...wow, you really ripped one didn't you?", he could tell if Oswald took offense or not.

"I'm so embarrassed. The only one I actually farted in front of was my mother.", Oswald's muffled voice coherency told Ed that he had genuine embarrassment.

"Oh, Oswald, it was just gas, it's completely natural, my sweet little birdy or should I say, lover?", Edward cooed the last word on purpose just to see Oswald's reaction.

It was not how he hoped it would be, "Did you just say, lover?", Oswald's voice was full of self-doubt and nervousness.

"Yes, I did say, lover, for I have come to the realization that I DO love you, Oswald darling.", Ed was hopefully sweet and patient.

He watched Oswald closely when Oswald started to sniff the air in search of the tuna fish smell. It was then that Edward slowly yet swiftly got up and lifted the plate from the hidden table and promptly placed in front of Oswald whose eyes lit up at the sight of it. He watched as Oswald hungrily, yet with great restraint from gobbling it up too fast, ate his sandwich. He watched as Oswald sort of went into some sort of food relishing trance.

"Hmmmm...tuna fish...just the way I like it...just a little bit of mayonnaise and mustard and sprinkled with salt and pepper...Mmmmm...", Oswald was almost in a dreamlike state as he said this.

As Oswald finished his sandwich the food trance ebbed a little and a look of satisfaction crossed his face. After a moments pause, Oswald got up and gently guided him to the bed and sat him down. He then sat on top of him and began to kiss him. They kissed for what seemed like forever before it begun to become heated and their clothes began to slowly fall off and be discarded onto the floor. Before they knew it they were only in their underwear and they had begun to rub against each other until their groins couldn't take the fabric rubbing against them any longer.

Very slowly Edward placed his hands in Oswald's underwear and gently pushed them down to his knees exposing an already bulging erection. It was Oswald who shimmied his underwear completely off and discarded them along with their other clothes. Before long Edward's underwear was added to already discarded clothes pile upon the floor. They caressed each other's naked flesh as they continued to rub against each other's erections.

Before long Edward had rolled Oswald unto his back and gently slipped into him. It hadn't occurred to him to use lubricant. Once inside Oswald he began to gently thrust his hips to the beat of Oswald's progressing moans to 'keep going' and 'to give him more'. So that was exactly what he did. The pleasure was what caused him to move faster and do deeper into Oswald who began to claw him and urged him to 'keep going' and 'that was the spot'. After a few more thrusts they had an epic climax and he sank to Oswald's left side of the bed.

Sighing he fell asleep with Oswald wrapped gently around his body also asleep.

 **Eight Hours Later:**

Edward slowly awoke to the gentle touch of Oswald's had and his sweet voice that sang a sweet yet gentle heartfelt melody of the following lyrics:

 _You are my sunshine..._

 _My only sunshine..._

 _You make me happy when skies are grey..._

 _You'll never know dear how much I love you..._

 _Please don't take my sunshine away..._

Edward kept his eyes closed wanting to hear the next verse but he never got the chance because he heard Oswald softly crying as he continued to play with his hair. After a few moments he heard Oswald quiet down a bit, a shift in the bed didn't alarm Edward much until he heard the sound of fabric being placed upon a body. Oswald was redressing himself and when he was done he mad his way to the door before pausing a moment before he finally left the room. Edward feared that it was for the last and final time. A tear caressed his own cheek with the realization of what just happened.

Oswald had left him for good, never to return to this room or apartment ever again. The lord only knew where he was and what he was thinking. Edward couldn't help but feel that Oswald was protecting him from the wrath of the city and his enemies. He laid there motionless and sad with his eyes closed when tears began to soak his effortless features. Oswald did the one thing that would assure Edward of his love. For if he really loved him he had to let him go.

Edward opened his tear soaked eyes and stared at the ceiling before getting out of bed and getting dressed in order for him to spread havoc of the city of Gotham. For it was his destiny to become a man who would be greatly feared as well as intellectually hated because of his spreading of riddles. Maybe, just maybe, he would make a name for himself. What would that name be? Oh, I know, maybe, The riddle man? No, it was stupid and ignorant of its purpose. So, how about Mr. Riddles? It was kinda catchy, no? Or how about The Riddler? Yes, it was perfect. From now on he will be known as _The Riddler.._.


End file.
